Devil May Cry-Demon Soul
by sonflour
Summary: Dante's life of boredom is put on hold when his responsiblities as a Doomsday clan member put him face to face with an archrival of the past and a new evil of the future.
1. Dante: Demonhunter extraordinare

A lot of things had changed since the death of Mundus. A lively lifestyle was one of them. Seemed as if there was nothing exciting to do now. Trish was no longer around to argue with. She'd opened up her own bar and club in the vista. Every once in a while he'd speak to her because she'd have some interesting tidbits of info on his latest kill. Other than that, the seemingly romantic relationship they had (if it was ever there) was nonexistent. Course, Dante didn't mind that in the least. Trish had some serious mood issues, and between the two of them, two moody demon spawns were two too many.  
  
Dante walked around is apartment/headquarters and lazily made is way to his kitchen. With nothing left to do he decided to engage in an activity that he was a complete virgin to. Cleaning up. Within about an hour Dante had made is kitchen, in the very least, presentable. He looked into his fridge to see if he could scrounge up some grub.   
  
Hmmm...old chinese food, a hard slice of pizza, and a cup of yogurt with raisins in it?!  
  
No wait, yogurt doesn't have raisins. Mold.  
  
The handsome devil shook his head and grumbled to himself, "Maybe I'll eat out tonight."  
  
He had a surplus of funds from his last few missions. Even though he never did them for the money.  
  
Grabbing his jacket, he locked the newly fixed 2 ton steel door. (The one previously broken in by Trish's drama scene).  
  
He hopped on his red motorcycle and sped to town. Afterall, there were new strippers in town.  
  
*****  
  
Meanwhile in another place...  
  
Morgan sat writing messages of violence and death in the absolutely boring Doomsday clan meeting. This shit was all Duke Nukem's fault. For all she cared she could have been sitting in her cozy place beating the hell out of her punching bag.  
  
For the hundredth time she glanced at her timex. Five more minutes.  
  
"....that Demon hunter, Dante is a wildcard. We can't be sure of his alliance if he doesn't bother to come to any of the meetings. Six months ago he killed the demon lord Mundus. He's too powerful to be left alone." one of the old senior members of the clan was talking.  
  
Morgan snapped out of her zombie-like trance with the levitating pencil and it clattered to the ground.  
  
"Dante." she whispered to herself. Arch rival. Arrogant motherfucker. Yep. That's him. Now she knew she was wasting her time if they were talking about that loser.  
  
Duke, the pompous bastard, stood up in the meeting. Morgan wondered why the hell he still wore shades in a room with no damn sunlight.  
  
"We need to send someone to get Dante to our meetings. He needs to be tamed and controlled for our purposes." Duke stated. "In fact we need him sooner than we think. Dim the lights and pay attention to the screen."  
  
The room dimmed and the screen showed apart of the subworld 2 being permeated with supernatural beings.  
  
"What the hell is going on," one of the members yelled. The lights came back on.  
  
Nukem spoke up. "For the last month, supernatural beings have been gathering around this area just like they did with Mallet Island. We have reason to believe that the demon lord Sloreth is awaking."  
  
All of the members of the clan looked back at Morgan whose legs were placed lazily on the table and whose body was leaning back in the chair. She almost fell out of it under the glares of the entire Doomsday clan.  
  
Sloreth. If Mundus had been bad, Sloreth was far worse. Hell, Mundus wasn't shit compared to this dude. However, Sloreth was way before the time of the dark lord Mundus. He lived in a time when Hell was far worse than it was today. He brought hell to the earth and for six thousand years he reigned in terror and torture of the humans on Earth.   
  
He was one of the central evils manifested in devil form. Almost where evil orginated. The dark one or Be'rial was the only one more powerful.   
  
Morgan's eyes iced over. Sloreth. Same evil son of a bitch that had killed her father Lorn. Lorn had been a knight of the underworld, torn between his possession of a soul of God, and his powers of evil. Eventually fighting both became too much and he chose God. Lorn fought Sloreth and died after the death of his little girl. Legend has it that his offspring would succeed where he failed.  
  
Well if it was one thing she had in common with her arch rival it was a legacy of evil.  
  
"Morgan, we're sending you on this mission. You must find Sparda's spawn to help you. Doomsday will not be allowed to assist in this. We only observe." Duke said.  
  
"Hmm... how fucking convenient," she said saracastically. "Let's see. I'm going to kill some ancient ass evil with only the help of my arch -fucking- enemy, and if I don't, I risk defying the damn Doomsday clan, which results in my death anyway!!!"she yelled.  
  
Angry as fuck, she didn't notice the blue light starting to surround her. She breathed heavily.  
  
"Fuck you, Nukem and your little bitches too. I'll do this shit but for my father, and not for you." she said walking out of the meeting. "And you can forget about me working with that asshole, Dante too!" she yelled behind her.  
  
  
The twenty-four year old pushed her helmet over her raven black hair and was about to hop on to her black motor bike when an iron grip clamped her arm viciously.  
  
She turned around ready to really kill somebody and was faced with none other than Nukem himself.   
  
"Listen you little bitch," he said threateningly, "you musta forgot that we've got your soul. If you ever wanna be a normal human, then you will do exactly what we say, when we say it."   
  
He pushed her away and sneered nastily at her, while softly running his finger down her cheek. "Besides I thought we had a lovely understanding, Morgan."  
  
She shuddered at the use of her name on his lips, and at the hand that touched her lips. Her fist, having a mind of it's own punched him in the face. Hard.  
  
He fell to the ground holding his cheek.  
  
"I hope I broke something, you perverted small dicked bastard." she fumed. She hopped on her bike and sped through the narrow veil that hid the Doomsday clan from mortal eyes.  
  
  
He rubbed the spot that was sure to be a nasty bruise later on. "Devil slut. You'll pay."  
  
  
  
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
Well that's that. New evil, new devil, new story. Wow! Um yeah. Please review. After I get about....hmm....let's say ten reviews I'll start the next part. Bye!  
  
Oh yeah, I got the doomsday idea from some biography I'd read about Dante. Seems as if he had a run in with Duke a while ago.  
  
Bye. 


	2. They meet

Hello. I haven't written for this fic in a while. One reason is because I didn't get any reviews. Come on guys, was it really that bad?  Oh well. Anyway, I like and so I'm going to continue writing it. 

Enjoy (tough crowd)

Chapter 2

Morgan shook her dark hair out of her helmet and ran her fingers through it. Still fuming she nearly kicked the door to her spacious studio apartment. Throwing the helmet on the floor, she walked to her room leaving a trail of clothes behind her and headed straight for the shower.

The nerve of that bastard! 

She shuddered at thoughts that came unbidden to her mind.

She turned on the shower nozzle and stepped in. As she allowed the piping hot water to wash over her she lathered her body and for the hundredth time, she tried to wash away the memories of what Nukem had done to her. Although the water was scalding, her body was ice cold with helpless rage.

 The Doomsday clan had taken her in when her mother had been killed. She would have died had it not been for them.  However, just recently she learned that she'd never had a choice in the matter. Doomsday owned her soul, and therefore her body as well.  

She had been trained to kill ever since as their own personal puppet. Doomsday offered a kind of protection that the rest of the cold world could not for a pretty young girl. 

Tender age of 17. The age most kids would have been going to college or hanging out with friends. Morgan, prodigy of Doomsday had been trained rigorously in all educational subjects. A perfect weapon would need an extensive supply of knowledge about all subjects, from math to technology. She was a master fighter too. Knew over one hundred and five ways to kill a man with just the use of her body. That didn't include her demon powers.

In secret she'd trained the powers of her father to their peak.  Lorn had been a powerful demon with god-like powers. One of his most potent attacks Red Blaze, could kill humans and immortals alike. Morgan had mastered even this technique.

Yet none of this helped the day Duke Nukem raped her.  

She shook the thought out of her head and stepped out of the shower. 

She'd be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of occupying her thoughts. As she passed her room the clock said 10:30.  Right now, more than anything she needed sleep.  But she was gonna have to get information on Sloreth's location. That meant The Night Life was gonna be the spot tonight.

She put on a pair of dark jeans and a black tank top with a silver horse on it. Around her waist was a wide black belt. While it was a great fashion statement, it also had its practical uses. She comfortably stuck her daggers in their places. With a quick tousle of her thick black hair, she took a glance at the mirror, winked for vanity's sake, and headed out the door.

*************************************************

            Dante ran his hands through his hair, and walked into Trish's bar that she halfway owned. The other half was owned by her friend Owen. Dark haired and dark eyed, Owen was also a mixture of demon and human. His powers. Unknown. Word on the street was he never fought with weapons. Let's just say that he didn't need a bouncer for the club.

            Dante spotted Owen. Owen's hair was in a short curly ponytail at the nape of his neck. He wore some dirty jeans and a black T-shirt. The man, much like Dante was a friggin chick magnet. Owen looked Dante up and down with a smirk on his face.

"Well, well, well," he drawled deliberately, "the freaks really do come out at night."

Dante laughed. "Yeah, bro. You've been practicin that one in the mirror a lot haven't ya."

Owen clapped Dante's hand with his own twice and pulled back. He went back to polishing the shot glass.

"So Dante, what you doin out this late. Ain't it past your bedtime?"

Dante, momentarily preoccupied with a strippers heel in his face, nodded absently.

"Yo! Dante!" Owen laughed.

"Oh, I'm just enjoyin the scenery. Any demons need killin you heard of?" He asked the last question with a hint of childlike wishfulness.

"Nope," Owen smirked, "You really need a hobby. Take up quilting."

Dante gave him the finger and turned his attention back to the stipper.

"I wouldn't retire just yet Sparda." Trish walked in from the behind the bar. 

Since that story with Mundus, Trish had changed quite a lot. She'd cut her super long hair into a trendy bob that framed her face. The back was flipped up. She still wore her black tube and leather pants ensemble, however. Virtually no make-up graced her face, but she was just as pretty.

"Howdy, babe. Why are you still here with this bozo?" He looked Owen up and down with mock disgust.

Owen good naturedly rolled his eyes. 

"What's up Dante."  Trish hugged him across the bar.

"Dante's looking for a gig, Trish. Please give em something. He looks like the kid on the back of the milk carton." Owen's perpetual smirk was still in place.

Dante flipped him again. "Man, my middle finger is just not working tonight. Shit. Anyway, Trish you hear of anything going down lately."

Trish's earlier amusement from their conversation left. "As a matter of fact, Dante I have. Word on the street is that something big is goin down."

Dante eagerly rubbed his hands together. "What kinda big?"  Owen and Trish exchanged glances at his obvious excitement. "Demon kinda big, Sparda. As in Mundus was horseshit compared to this one, kinda big."  Trish had the straight face. This was serious.

Dante let that sink in for a second. "Where the hell did this come from? It just popped up out of the blue?" Dante questioned Trish extensively.

"I don't know, all I know is tha-…" Trish was cut off in midsentence. 

 Morgan who had just stepped in a few minutes ago overheard Trish talking. Beside her she saw Owens darker face. Not far off from the pair, she spotted Sparda.

Morgan walked over to the group unnoticed by Dante. Her keen ears picked up on the conversation and she smoothly interjected as Trish was about to mention Doomsday.

"I'm on this on this one Sparda. So you can just stay out of my way." Morgan looked at Dante mentally challenging him to say something.

Dante looked at her. She was just like he'd remembered her. Gorgeous, dangerous and of course, a wiseass.

"Well somebody hit me over the head with a bottle. It's the bitch of Doomsday." Dante glared at her. Morgan glared right back. Tension between the two could have broken the bar glasses.

"Hey Morgan," Trish and Owen greeted simultaneously. She smiled and nodded at them. Dante wondered why she was so nice to everybody else, and such a bitch to him.

"Doomsday finally let you off the leash eh?" Dante's smirk got particularly nasty. "Always lettin the whore, do their dirty work. Oh and by the way, how's Duke been. He's probably kept you busy for a long-"

Morgan's fist connected with Dante's face at record speed. He flew back at the bar from the force of the swing.

"I knew I shouldn't come here. They had the nerve to tell me I needed your help. You don't know a damn thing about me so don't assume you do! Fuck you Dante! No better yet go fuck yourself the way you've been doing for the last SIX YEARS!" she pushed past him hard.

"Trish, I'll call you with the details." And with that, she stormed out of the club. Dante got up rubbing his jaw.

"Ya know Dante, you've really got a way with women," Owen laughed.

"Now really ain't the fuckin time, pretty boy." Dante gritted out. Owen shook his head. Trish looked at Dante. "Ya know you really should go after her, Dante." Trish passed him a glass of scotch.

"Don't hold your breath," he muttered and walked out.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Well  it's a reunion for everybody's favorite demon hunter a woman from his past. Why don't they get along…

All will be revealed in the next chapters.


End file.
